


With good intentions

by Clever_friend



Category: The Omen (Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clever_friend/pseuds/Clever_friend
Summary: When Mark saw his brother running from the Academy he went after him immediately so as to offer his help and comfort.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	With good intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Translated into English by [Kana_Go](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kana_Go)

Mark immediately knew that Damien had a problem. When Damien dashed past, Mark noticed such desperation written all over his face that he handed his horn to the nearest cadet and started in pursuit. When he realized that Damien was running towards the lake he had to put on pace: for a moment he imagined that his brother would plop right into the water and drown himself. But nothing like that happened. Damien just stood for a while, trying to recover his breath, and then screamed into the sky, “Why me?!”

“Why you – what?” Mark asked. 

Damien turned around, his face wet with tears. Mark had never seen him cry before. 

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked in alarm. “Are you sick? Is it something horrible?”

Damien heaved a sigh, dried his eyes and asked, “Mark, have you read the Bible?”

“I sure have!” Mark answered. “I know it almost by heart! That damn Aunt Marion, whenever she visits she starts whining, ‘Ah, Mark, my eyes are so weak, oh, Mark, read me _The Revelation_.’ The old crow! You’re lucky, she doesn’t like you.”

“Ah, so you’ve read The Revelation.” Damien tried to smile, but the smile turned somewhat crooked. “Then you know what it is.” He lowered his head and parted the hair on the top of it. 

Mark looked closer. A small tattoo of 666 was the size of a birthmark and therefore almost invisible.

“Why did you get a tattoo under your hair, no one will be able to see it,” he asked in surprise. “And even if you shave your head, it’s so small no one will see it anyway. You should’ve tattooed this on your arm. Oh! ” He had an idea. “I’ll get the same tattoo on my arm and when next time Aunt Marion asks me if I know the number of the beast I’ll show her my arm and say, “This one, right?” And then this old hag will literally blow into pieces.”

Damien giggled. Then he became serious again. 

“It’s not a tattoo. It’s my mark, 666 is my number. I’m the Antichrist, Mark.”

Mark tried to argue but failed. Everything that had been happening around Damien for years suddenly became clear and logical. He even found it strange that he hadn’t come to this very conclusion earlier. Aunt Marion had obviously figured it out. He sat on the grass and said with admiration, “Wow!”

Damien seemed to expect a different reaction.  
“It seems like you’re happy about it.”

“Of course I am. My brother is a real true Antichrist, cripes! You’ll have your own dragon and all these harlots…” 

“What harlots, Mark?” Damien asked indignantly. 

“Naked, I guess. We are almost grown-up, it’s high time to start. But a dragon is cool, too. Ten horns, seven heads. It’s like a pet dinosaur but even cooler. Will you let me pet him?”

It looked like Damien had gotten angry at first because Mark hadn’t taken his problem seriously, but when he heard about the dinosaur his heart wavered. 

“A pet dinosaur,” he echoed dreamily. 

But then he came to senses. 

“Mark, can you just stop thinking about harlots and dragons? Do you really want to go to Hell?”  
“Well, considering Aunt Marion will go to Heaven I definitely don’t want to get there. Just imagine how she’ll chase us all over the place if she’s given wings and a harp. She’s insufferable enough even without wings. As for Hell, I have nothing to fear because you’ll be a boss down there.”  
It sounded logical, too. 

“I'd just like to say one more,” Mark continued. “If you’re supposed to get tiaras, will you give one to me?” 

“Why do you need a tiara, Mark, you’re not a girl,” Damien said tiredly. 

“Neither are you, but you’ll get ten of them. You absolutely can share, I always share everything with you. And as for the dragon…”

Damien was sitting on the grass, looking at the lake and gradually starting to feel calmer.  
“Let’s return to the Academy, Mark. You have a rehearsal today, don’t you?”

“Right,” Mark agreed. “I need to practice with a horn more so that you have someone to sound, too, there must be someone besides all those angels.”  
…  
Damien was lying in his bed and trying to get to sleep. 

“And then we’ll fight angels and all saints and we’ll win and then I…”

“Mark, calm down and sleep,” Damien snapped.

The bedroom got quiet. Damien’s eyelids began to drop slowly. 

“So, this is what I thought about the dragon…”

“Go to sleep!”


End file.
